Chapter Two
Marylebone, London
Miss Hannah Ulrich—or Lady Mirabelle if one was looking for a particular sort of entertainment—tamped down on the urge to interrupt her friend’s monologue regarding the trials, tribulations, and joys of motherhood.
Oh, she adored her friend’s offspring, of course, for she and Lady Catherine had Come Out together years and years ago and they had been best friends ever since, but she couldn’t ignore the stab of envy that went through her chest because her friend was, in fact, a mother.
Hannah had been denied that in a disappointing and heartbreaking way.
“Of course I love my children, but between the two of them and my husband, I haven’t had a moment to myself in years,” Lady Catherine said then took a long sip of tea.
After more than a few Seasons, the other woman had married and had two children, where Hannah had gone on to enjoy the company of one particular man without the hassle of being legally bound to him or relegated to property and being owned.
Before everything changed and she became a courtesan.
“Then that just means you and I will need to meet for tea more than once a month going forward,” Hannah said with a faint smile.
What is wrong with me? Why can I not summon interest or enthusiasm for anything?
It had felt that way for the past six months. The things that had previously brought her joy or even satisfaction had paled. No longer did she reach out to her friends for cozy chats or to connect over tea; she’d rather be alone.
With her tortuous thoughts.
“Enough of that.” Lady Charlotte waved a delicate hand in dismissal.
Curiosity filled her mossy eyes. “Motherhood is quite dull compared to your life, I suspect. How have you been lately? I’m afraid I’ve been busy with everything at home as well as society functions and haven’t had time to catch up with the friends I don’t see at those events. ”
“It’s quite all right. We have our own lives.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded far too distracted.
Her friend smiled. “Since I haven’t seen you much, can I assume you have finally found a man, convinced him to come up to scratch?”
Oh, God.
She sighed. “I am not currently chasing, nor being chased, by a man.” Of course, she couldn’t tell even her closest friend that she’d been plagued by men for the past eight years, and with three appointments at week, that totaled to more than enough visits to make her swear off them.
Except she enjoyed the release far too much. When it happened.
There was only one person on this planet who knew she was secretly Lady Mirabele, a highly sought after courtesan who didn’t come cheap.
In fact, she’d made a lovely little nest egg for herself, enjoyed this townhouse that she’d bought with the help and guidance of her brother.
Poor man. She’d told him that one of her friends had died and left her an inheritance gift, and the sot didn’t question it because she knew secrets about him too.
Since he was trying to court the daughter of an earl, it was best those secrets stayed hidden.
And neither of them asked questions of the other.
“Oh, dearest, you are five and thirty, and quite firmly on the shelf. Don’t you want a husband and a family?”
As if that were something one could easily procure in a Mayfair shop.
Hannah took a sip of tea before replying.
“Perhaps years ago I did, but I don’t think I do now.
” She couldn’t bear carrying a child and then giving birth at high risk to them both only to perhaps lose another child.
The greatest sorrow of her life had happened nine years ago, and she’d nearly lost herself in the aftermath from grief and loneliness.
I can’t do that again.
“What?” Surprise entered Lady Catherine’s expression. “You are all too serious.” It wasn’t a question.
She shrugged. “Being a spinster isn’t that bad.”
The lady blew out a breath. “I don’t know how you manage it. I would feel such embarrassment at never being sought out by men in the ton.”
If only you knew, my friend.
“I had five Seasons, as you know. I wasn’t popular, not the desired English rose, neither lithe nor blonde.
I’ve always been too fleshy.” That was what Lady Catherine had been back then, and still was.
Regardless of the fact she’d born two children, she hadn’t gained weight and no portion of her form sagged.
“And with that red hair and freckles, you were fairly doomed,” her friend said with a giggle. “Even though that auburn hair of yours is glorious. Like a bonfire.”
“There is that.” It pulled a genuine smile from her, though. “But I’m handy with a needle, and colorful embroidery thread brings me joy.” Or it used to.
In fact, when she wasn’t being a courtesan, she enjoyed needlepointing as well as making her own clothing.
It gave her brain something to do instead of constantly thinking about her loss.
Even when she was with clients, she worked at sewing, for many of the men didn’t want intercourse—oh, there were plenty who did—but some merely wished for advice or conversation, or rather they wanted someone who would listen to them talk.
Lady Catherine nodded. “At least you aren’t a seamstress. Your father would have disowned you if you worked for a living.”
“Ha.” A snort issued from her throat. “Yes, but he’d probably turn over in his grave if he knew what I really do for coin.”
“What does that mean?”
A hint of wickedness came over her. Perhaps it was time to share her secret. “Let’s just say it involves spending copious amounts of time in bed.”
“I… Oh!” Lady Catherine stared at her in shock. “Surely not…”
“Indeed.” Hannah nodded while internally laughing. “You need to keep it a secret.”
The shock in the other woman’s eyes deepened. “How long have you been…?”
“Mmm…” Hannah shrugged. A tiny thrill went down her spine to finally have her secret disclosed.
“Perhaps eight years, a little bit less?” After she’d lost her infant, she’d flirted close to madness and left London for a while.
Though she’d wanted to travel abroad, the war prevented that.
When she returned to Town, there was nothing left for her, and she could never gain respectability after being a mistress and bearing a child out of wedlock if that knowledge got out, so she’d decided to become a courtesan.
She’d learned much from being mistress to a Navy man and that wonderful six months when he’d been on leave, and she found she’d rather enjoyed carnal pleasures.
“Dear heavens, Hannah.” Lady Catherine clutched her hand. “What is it like?”
“What do you mean?” Confusion bounced around her head. “You’ve had relations at least twice—you have two children.”
“That doesn’t mean it was enjoyable.” The other woman blew out a breath.
I love my husband, but he is very average when it comes to…
well when it comes to bedding a woman.” A blush filled her cheeks, even though she had been married for at least ten years.
“I have only gone flying a few times during my marriage.”
“Not even by your own fingers?”
“Hannah, bite your tongue. Of course not.” She sounded quite scandalized at the prospect. “Proper women don’t indulge in that.”
“Then you are missing out, dear.” It was her turn to stare. “Truly, though? You’ve never explored on your own body even if your husband was lacking?”
“No.” Lady Catherine nodded and kept her gaze on her teacup.
“How horrible for you. Self-pleasure aside, you have missed out on wonderful parts of the human existence.” Sex and carnal games were one of her favorite things, especially if the lovers she took were skilled and creative.
“Yes, there are some terribly boring men who haven’t a speck of imagination or who are quite selfish and just want to rut, but the others? It’s enjoyable work.”
Yet work where she had to remind herself not to be personally involved or invested in said men.
Lady Catherine frowned. “Um… doesn’t doing… that all the time cheapen it?” She lowered her voice. “What happens when you fall in love and want to do that with your husband?”
Poor na?ve thing. “I won’t fall in love.”
Not again. It went horribly wrong the last time, and she couldn’t let anyone else close.
It hurt too much to lose them. After Buckthorne went to war, after she thought he’d died, after her child’s loss, she’d become numb to any sort of emotion.
There was only a deadness inside, a void, and she cultivated it as a protection of sorts.
When she was with a lover or a client, she only concentrated on the release because her body craved it, but everything else she ignored or deflected.
It’s safer this way.
“You might,” Lady Catherine insisted with enthusiasm in her expression. “You are still quite lovely for your age.”
“As if I’m withering on the vine and one big wind will sweep me away? When her friend seemed discomfited, Hannah laughed. “Dearest, I don’t want a husband. I don’t need love.”
Such an emotion was too dangerous, and she would only end up hurt and weak.
“Don’t be like that. Everyone needs love at some point.”
Not everyone. Not when a heart could be broken too many times to piece together.
“Really, I’m quite satisfied in life.” Truthfully, perhaps she didn’t deserve happiness or to find joy again.
She was well past respectable and had wholeheartedly embraced scandal.
There was no way fate would reward her for being so unashamedly troublesome.
“Goodness, Hannah, don’t be impossible.” Lady Catherine set her cup into its saucer and then rested them both on the low table in front of her.
She then brushed the crumbs from her marigold-colored taffeta skirting.
“You can’t make your own clothes and spend the time with your cat when you’re not entertaining…
men.” She glanced around the room. “Where is she, anyway?”